


Midnight Snack

by helaodinsdottir



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 13:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14895845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helaodinsdottir/pseuds/helaodinsdottir
Summary: Bucky hasn't known a whole lot of kindness lately, so you decide to show him some by making him a cake.





	Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was originally a request that I wrote for someone on [my tumblr.](http://helaodinsdottirr.tumblr.com/) I decided to throw it up on here because why not?

The Compound was rarely quiet. In the year that you’ve been living there, you didn’t think there was a time when it was ever quiet for long. There were always people, and not just the Avengers. There were smart tech people that worked for Tony, recruits that were being trained to serve as Avengers back up, important political people that came in and out, most of the time complaining. And then, if none of that was going on, FRIDAY was passing a message along to someone or giving some kind of report. Silence was a strange, almost uncomfortable thing in the Compound. Even in the middle of the night.

You had gotten up just past midnight, wandering into the kitchen. You tried to keep the clanging of pots and pans as quiet as possible while you moved around, taking out various utensils from the cabinets. Still, it was just a little too quiet and you had asked Friday to turn on some music in the kitchen. The low, soothing tunes supplied just the right amount of sound to put you at ease, and you had gotten to work.

You didn’t expect to be by yourself for long. Like you said, silence was not well known in the Compound. While everyone else went home at the end of the day, the rest of the team was still there. And none of them freaking slept. There were several midnight snack trips from various people. Sometimes Sam or Steve would come out and watch television for a little while before the prospect of sleep seemed appealing again. Natasha or Wanda would get up early in the morning to make breakfast, because it wouldn’t be long before the others would slowly shuffle out. At this point you could practically anticipate their nighttime schedules.

So you were a little surprised when you heard a door open and the shuffling of feet coming down the hallway. You glanced at the clock, frowning. It was almost 1:00 AM. You weren’t expecting company at least for another half an hour. Your eyes snapped to the intruder when you caught movement out of the corner of your eye.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Bucky asked you, his voice thick with sleep. He rubbed his right eye with the heel of his hand, watching you with the heavy-lidded left. He had sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and nothing covering his torso. He rarely did. He said his body was a hot box, and he shied away from wearing clothes when possible. You did not have any complaints with that logic whatsoever.

“Umm,” you hummed, stopping yourself from admiring his adonis lines and looking back at his face. Luckily, he seemed like he was too tired to notice. “I’m baking a cake for you. For your birthday.”

Bucky paused, the one eye you could see squinting at you. “It’s not my birthday,” he said.

“It’s your half birthday,” you argued. You stepped over to the oven, opening it so you could peek inside. Your nose was greeted with the pleasant aroma of chocolate. You eyed the cake, deciding it needed another few minutes before it was ready.

He lowered his hand, his eyes shifting upwards as if he was thinking about something. “It’s not my half birthday either, Y/N.”

“You know what? Shut up,” you said, exasperated. “I wanted to make you a cake, okay? And I figured a good reason would be to celebrate your birthday.”

Bucky’s mouth twitched, like maybe he thought about smiling. “Alright. But why are you making it in the middle of the night?”

You chewed on your lip, giving him an uncertain look before you turned and grabbed an oven mitt off the counter. You busied yourself by studying the cake, taking it out and setting it on the stovetop. You opened a drawer, pulling out a toothpick. You glanced at Bucky as you did so, noting he was still patiently waiting for your answer. You sighed a little, sticking the toothpick in the center of the cake. “You get up like every night around this hour. Nightmares, I’m guessing. But lately you’ve been awake a lot and you don’t smile much and just seem so tired so I thought that maybe if there was a cake waiting after your nightmare it’d make you a little happier.” The words came out in a rush, and as soon as your word vomit came to an end you felt your cheeks heat up. No, not creepy at all that you knew his sleeping habits. The nightmares were a different story.

Everyone knew about the nightmares. Hell, you knew about the nightmares during your first week. Your apartment was next to Bucky’s, and you could hear him screaming. Naturally, it had alarmed you at first until Steve explained everything. Bucky had night terrors, but he didn’t want any help. He just wanted everyone to leave him alone. Which you respected, especially since you didn’t know him well enough to do anything but.

After a while, you knew it wasn’t just the nightmares, though. Sometimes you caught him with a distant, guarded look on his face, like he was thinking about something unpleasant or scary. He was always tense. You didn’t think you’d ever seen the man truly relax in the time you’d been there. Smiles were rare, but they did happen, you noted mostly when Steve was around. But lately, they hadn’t even been happening around Steve. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him smile. And it made you feel bad, and determined to try and get the smile back. You and Bucky had gotten used to each other in the past year, and while the two of you didn’t exactly have a strong bond you were definitely on friendly terms. And as a kind-of friend, you wanted to help him. Cake seemed like the appropriate route to take.

“You do like cake, right?” You asked. Maybe that would have been a great piece of information to find out before you made the damn thing. You plucked the toothpick out, smiling a little to yourself when the tiny splinter of wood told you the cake was indeed done.

“I do,” Bucky said, but without much conviction. Maybe he didn’t even know if he liked cake or not.

You grabbed the icing out of the shopping bag you had tossed on the island. You were ambitious enough to make the cake from scratch, but not the icing, which was also chocolate. Snagging a knife from the drawer, your back as to Bucky as you spread icing over the cake. You heard movement behind you, and a moment later there was the sound of one of the bar stools lightly scraping against the floor.

You cut the cake. You gave Bucky a sizable piece, and yourself a more reasonably sized one. From what you understood about super soldiers, they ate a lot. Bucky could probably eat the entire cake by himself, which is also part of the reason you only took a small piece. It was his cake. And if by some chance he smiled every time he took a bite, well…that was a lot of smiling.

Turning around, two plates in hand, you slid the bigger piece over to Bucky. Then you walked around the island and hopped on the bar stool next to him. You sliced a piece off with your fork, though your attention was really on Bucky. You watched closely as he took a bite.

He chewed once, then stopped. His eyebrows drew together, and then shot up as he started chewing again. “This is good, Y/N,” he said. He took another piece and stuck it in his mouth. “Really good.” There was no smile, but the pleasure in his expression was obvious as he took his third bite.

Enjoying your slice of cake was much easier knowing that he liked his. It was pretty good, considering you had to work with just what was available to you in the kitchen. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the taste of moist chocolate melting in your mouths.

Bucky finished his before you. He made a noise of pleasure after inhaling the last bite, standing up and walking over to the bake pan. His back facing you, you took a moment to appreciate the hard muscle encased in smooth skin. Well, mostly smooth. As far as you knew, Bucky was relatively comfortable with his vibranium arm, and the scars that now encircled part of his torso because of it. Evidently how he looked was no longer at the top of his worries list.

You stood up as he sat down, taking your plate with you to wash it in the sink. You cleaned up your mess while Bucky worked on the second slice. You couldn’t help but glance over at him every once in a while, eyeing his expression. Still no smile. Damn it all. What did you have to do to get the man to smile? Serve it to him naked? You felt yourself blush just at the thought, smiling at yourself as you continued to clean up.

You hid the cake under some tinfoil, and then sifted through the junk drawer until you found a black permanent marker. You wrote on the flimsy surface the best you could, rereading it and nodding a little bit before you returned the marker to its place.

“What’d you write on it?” Bucky asked. He had inhaled his second piece, and looked quite content. His arms were thrown over the back of the chair, and he was slouched down to the point you were a little worried he might slide right off.

You held up the pan, tilting it towards him so he could read it for himself.

“This is Bucky’s cake. If you are not Bucky and you eat this cake, I will kill you in your sleep.” He raised an eyebrow. “A little aggressive, don’t you think, doll?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. You turned, sticking the cake in the fridge. “I made it for you. So you can have some tomorrow night and the night after, if you want.” You wandered around the counter, standing next to him as you reached for his plate. You startled a little bit when he grabbed your arm.

Bucky stood up, his bare chest brushing against your arm as he wrapped his around your waist. Pulling you in to a tight hug, you shivered when his lips brushed against your cheek. “Thank you, Y/N,” he murmured. He stood like that for a little while, holding you against him. Maybe this was the first time since he’s had any kind of intimate contact since he’s been back. But when he finally drew away from you, dropping his arms, you saw it. That little crook to his mouth, just barely enough to be considered a smile but it made you grin from ear to ear.


End file.
